


Because We Are Decadent

by DwarvenBeardSpores



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Dom Drop, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Food, Gen, Hand Feeding, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Bondage, Non-Sexual Bondage, Non-Sexual Kink, Power Dynamics, Queerplatonic Relationships, Stress Eating, Stuffing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 14:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11404218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwarvenBeardSpores/pseuds/DwarvenBeardSpores
Summary: When drinking doesn’t work, Eliot decides to fall back on the old strategy of eating his trauma away. Margo finds out and, being the best friend that she is, won’t let him go about it alone or without elegance.





	Because We Are Decadent

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally just going to be platonic kinky fun, and then angst happened. Whoops. I'm actually pretty damn proud of this though.

Margo was deep into a soulful conversation about bondage with an exceptionally kinky Herbalist girl when she noticed Eliot out of the corner of her eye. He was looking around furtively which, considering all the things he would do blatantly out in the open, was never a good sign. There was a package of something under his arm, and he was making for the stairs. 

Margo leaned forward and put her finger to the Herbalist girl’s lips. “Hold that thought,” she said. “I've got to check in on my best friend, who’s an idiot.” 

The girl looked surprised and indignant, but it wasn’t going to do her any good. Margo and Eliot were just too fabulous to put anyone else before each other. She intercepted Eliot at the foot of the stairs, taking the step above him to block his way. She also managed to grab the package; a large bag of Hershey’s Kisses. “What have we got here, hmm? Something you’re not sharing?”

“Bambi, please.” 

Eliot… didn’t look so good. He looked tired and worried, and his pupils were a weird size. “Oh my God,” she breathed. “You’re sober.” 

“Only mostly.” Eliot took a deep breath. He flexed his fingers and the banister warped and un-warped under his hands. “Can I explain it to you later?” 

Margo shook her head and clutched the candy tighter to her chest. “Nope. I’m worried about you, Boo. And you specifically asked me to stop you from eating bags of candy at a time, so I’m gonna need a pretty good reason before I give this back.” 

Eliot sighed. His gaze traveled to a corner of the ceiling. “It’s a bad night,” he said. “A really bad night.” 

Margo tried to think. It wasn’t a holiday, so it was probably the anniversary of something traumatic. Between the two of them they needed a calendar to keep track of them all. 

“And I can’t get really drunk,” Eliot said, “or high, or fucked. I can’t stop thinking about violence and magic, and it just gets worse the more messed up I get, not better.” 

“Ooh,” Margo said sympathetically. “One of those.”

“Last year I nearly put someone in the hospital,” Eliot said. “So look, I love you, but give me back the candy.”

Margo spared half a thought for the Herbalist girl, but really, it was no decision. “Nope,” she said. “This isn’t gonna be nearly enough to keep you busy the whole night. Give me thirty minutes to fix it, then come to my room.”

“But-“ Eliot began.

“El. Trust me.” Margo grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him down so she could kiss his forehead. “It’ll be better when you’re not alone.”

Eliot melted a little into her touch. The poor boy was really having a hard time of it. She ran her hands through his soft curls for a moment.

“Go snack on the hors d’oeuvres,” she told him. “You’ll be okay.” 

“If I maim someone, it’s your fault,” he muttered, but obediently turned away from the stairs. 

Margo hurried to her room, plastic wrapping crackling in her arms. Not exactly what she’d been expecting from this evening, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun with it. 

Sometimes people were surprised to learn that Margo had a door into town in her room. She never understood why. It was the kind of thing you needed if you were going to be prepared for every occasion. And it made it terribly easy to slip into the grocery store, load up two baskets of food, and escape without paying. And, because Margo always knew what she wanted, (and because her face had gone so stony as soon as she was out of Eliot’s sight that no one dared get in her way) it allowed her a good ten minutes to set the scene. She was finishing the stabilizing spells on her fondue pots when Eliot opened the door. 

“Please tell me you’re ready,” he said. “I broke the disco ball.” 

“I was just about to get you,” Margo answered. She gestured to her bed, where she had covered the headboard with a layer of pillows, perfect for sitting against.

Eliot’s eyes were wide and fearful as he looked around at her spread. Margo's makeup rattled on her dresser, an unconscious symptom of his agitation. She had done her best to make the room look like a scene, like a treat rather than a desperate attempt at staying intact. “This is too much,” he said. _I don’t deserve it,_ is what he was thinking, which was exactly why Margo had put the effort in. 

“Tonight, Bitch, too much is exactly the right amount.” Margo pointed to the bed again, and this time Eliot complied, carefully taking his shoes off before he put his feet on the bedspread. His hands shook. Margo pretended she didn’t notice. 

“Comfy?” she asked, as Eliot squirmed his way between the pillows. 

Eliot nodded. 

“Good. You won’t be for long.” Moving quickly, Margo snatched his hands from his sides and yanked them over his head. As she held them in place, she muttered a spell and the rope she’d set up earlier twisted around his wrists, tying them securely to the headboard. 

“Well that’s… fun.” Eliot pulled at the ropes tentatively, but they stayed firm. 

“Still good?” Margo asked. This was not the first time she’d tied Eliot up. He generally enjoyed it. But it was always good to check. 

“ _Good_ is not an adjective I’d use for tonight,” Eliot said. “But yeah. I’m fine.”

While the feet were less of a problem, Margo waved her hand and a few ropes wound around his ankles and the baseboard. There was no reason not to go all out. “Blindfold?” she asked. 

“I- “ Eliot hesitated, then shook his head.

“Gotcha.” Margo dismissed the blindfold onto the floor. “Now let’s get down to the important stuff. Savory of sweet?”

Eliot took a breath. “Savory.” 

“Basic bitch,” Margo teased, but she obliged, beckoning a floating tray over to hover in front of Eliot. A pot of melted cheese, propped over a heating spell, sat in the middle. She had a three-point set-up around the pot, all ready for dipping. A loaf of french bread, three sliced apples, and a dish of cheese cubes. “Now, I know you probably planned on just shoving chips in your face, but you’ve gotta admit fondue is so much more fabulous. And since we’re fabulous too, that’s exactly what we need.”

Margo settled himself next to Eliot, pressing up against his side. She ran a hand through his hair to calm him down, then reached performed a simple spell to cut the bread into chunks. She picked one up in her fingers, and dipped it generously into the melted cheese. 

“Magic bib,” Eliot interrupted. “I don’t want to ruin this waistcoat because you had to be fancy.” 

Margo rolled her eyes ( _as if_ she would let any drip) but she did as he asked, and cast a protective spell all over both of their clothes. “There. Now open up.” 

He did as he was told, and Margo slipped the bread and cheese into his mouth. For the first few bites, she watched him chew and swallow before presenting another piece of bread. Once she had an idea of how long it took, it was time to be efficient about this. After all, what Eliot needed was to be overloaded on pleasure to the point of pain, and then overloaded on pain till he came out the other side, blissed out and calm. Now she made sure Eliot barely had time to swallow before there was another piece of food at his lips, and then another. Despite his aversion to the blindfold, Eliot’s eyes flickered closed as he trusted Margo to keep filling his mouth. Cheese started collecting on his lips, but she wiped it off with a flick of her wrist; he had never liked having food on his face. 

About a third of the way through the loaf, Margo decided to switch it up in favor of the apple. The sharp crunch surprised Eliot enough that his eyes snapped open.

“You like it?” Margo asked. 

Eliot nodded. He chewed and swallowed and then confirmed. “Yes.” 

“You’re doing so good, El,” Margo said. 

“Need more,” Eliot said. “Don’t stop.” 

“No shit,” Margo agreed. “We’re just getting started.” She brought another piece of apple to his lips, and the routine continued. Dip, feed, dip, feed. It was a pattern they got comfortable in, and breezed through two apples. Then Margo switched it up again.  
  
“Is that-“ Eliot paused to chew and swallow. “Did you feed me cheese dipped in cheese?”

“Yes,” Margo said. “Because we are decadent, and I forgot pretzels.” With that, she popped another extra-cheesy bite into Eliot’s mouth.

The cheese was harder for him to get down. He was chewing slower now, and this time when they stopped Margo brought a flute of champagne to his lips. He drank obediently; alcohol wasn’t the point of tonight, but he needed something to wash down the food, and honestly, a little champagne wasn’t going to do anything, except maybe ease up some of the pressure in his stomach. 

Margo drank a flute too, because from her position, being tipsy was ideal. She also snagged a few bites of bread for herself, before turning back to Eliot. “Ready for round two?” she asked. 

“I thought that was three rounds,” Eliot pointed out. “We tried everything.”

“Try? El, you’re going to _finish_ everything.” Eliot opened his mouth, and Margo plopped another piece of bread inside to keep him from talking. “And I’ve got a sweet tray after this.” 

Eliot nearly choked on his bread, but to his credit he knew better than to argue with Margo. He swallowed and gave her a look that might have been gratitude. By the time she was done with him, he certainly was not going to be thinking about anything other than the here and now. He opened his mouth for another piece of bread. 

In this way, the food on the first tray disappeared. There was still nearly a quarter to go when Eliot started squirming and trying to relieve some of the pressure in his stomach, though the way he was bound made that attempt rather futile. He didn’t stop chewing, but the breaths in between bites became harsher, and he made small noises of discomfort around the food. Finally, though, Margo wiped up the last of the cheese sauce with another chunk of cheese, and popped it into Eliot’s eager mouth. He swallowed and opened his mouth for more, but Margo just said “open your eyes, Boo.” 

Eliot’s eyes flickered open and to see decimated tray. Crumbs, apple cores, and bits of crusted cheese were all that remained of the lavish spread. He groaned.

“That’s kinda impressive,” Margo said. “You’re doing good.” She checked in at Eliot’s wrists, his ankles, to make sure the ties weren’t cutting into him. Then she offered him another glass of champagne, which he drank greedily. They were about halfway through the bottle, which was way slower than they usually did anything involving alcohol.

“Bambi,” Eliot said. “Can I use magic?” 

Margo grinned. How sweet of him to ask. She looked him over as she considered. No. Almost definitely not. But she was curious. “Why should I say yes?” she asked.

Eliot frowned slightly, and his gaze went distant. The top button of his waistcoat came undone, and lay open against his chest. He turned his eyes back on her. 

“I see,” Margo said. “Things getting a little snug, are they? I’m not surprised, seeing how much you’ve eaten.” With Eliot, _especially_ when food was brought into the picture, there was a thin line between teasing and humiliation that it was absolutely disastrous to cross. Margo tread accordingly. “You must be _very_ full, if you're ready to strip down just like that.” 

“Please,” Eliot breathed. The word trembled in the air.

“No magic,” Margo said. She knew Eliot didn’t really want to use it anyway. “But I can unbutton one thing for you.” Eliot’s eyes were on her movements as she ghosted her hands down his front. “I can undo the entire waistcoat, or I pop your fly. Your call.” If they weren't Eliot and Margo, the offer might have seemed sexual, but they made their own rules and that wasn't what this was about. 

Eliot hesitated, but in the end vanity ran out. The vest was weaker, and he didn’t want to damage it. “Waistcoat.” 

It was almost a shame to undo the delicate row of buttons and let the silky waistcoat fall way. Underneath it, Eliot’s dress shirt was also feeling a bit of a strain. Eliot gasped at the relief, and took in several (sort of) deep breaths. Margo thought she might have caught sight of tears at the corners of his eyes, but she pretended she hadn’t.

“Now then,” she said. “Ready for tray two?” She waved her hand and the sweet tray floated into position. The fondue this time was chocolate, largely made of melted kisses, and Margo had selected a package of wafer cookies, a bowl of strawberries, and- best of all- a bag of jumbo marshmallows to dip. She popped one of the marshmallows into her own mouth first. Honestly, they were a weakness. 

“Open up,” she ordered, and dipped a wafer into the rich fondue. 

Eliot had a thing for sugar. It made sense why he had chosen to go savory first; for almost a third of this new tray he ate as eagerly as though he hadn’t been stuffed to the brim already. He moaned in pleasure around the fruit, and keened for more every time Margo took a break to switch hands. Margo was beginning to wonder if she should have gotten more chocolate. Ah well. She could figure something out. 

They were on Eliot’s fifteenth marshmallow when Eliot’s eyes snapped open. “Hold,” he breathed, and Margo’s hand was stopped in midair, inches from his face.

She frowned. “I thought I said no magic.” 

“Sorry,” Eliot managed. “Please. Wait.” The telekinesis disappeared, and Margo pulled her hand back to her chest. 

“What is it?” she demanded. 

Eliot just breathed for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, a pained look on his face. “Too much,” he gasped finally.

“You gonna puke on us?” 

Eliot shook his head. 

“Then I think we’re at just the right amount, El.” She didn’t push the marshmallow on him. Not yet. A quick glance at the clock said it was around midnight; they’d been at this a few hours now. Technically it was already the next day, though of course it wouldn’t count until she and Eliot had gone to sleep and woken up. They could get through this. They’d just hit the hard part, where everything hurt. 

Eliot groaned. He squirmed on the bed, and his swollen belly shook. His breaths were sharper, more desperate, and there were definitely a few tears running down the sides of his face now. “Bambi…" he said weakly. "Am I fabulous?” 

Margo pressed her lips together to keep from crying too. Eliot just… he broke her heart. As much as she wanted to take pleasure in distraction she was providing him, it was only a temporary fix and she knew it. “Yeah, bitch,” she said. She gingerly placed one hand on his bulging stomach and rubbed it soothingly. He was so full. “You’re fabulous. Almost as much as I am.”  

Eliot let out a small whine before breaking one of the most sacred rules of their friendship. He shook his head ‘no.’ 

Margo squeezed her eyes shut and pretended she hadn’t seen that. She could feel waves of magic lashing desperately out of her body, and it was all she could do to keep them from causing major damage. The things on her dresser went scattering to the floor. The savory tray and all its dishes smashed themselves into pieces. One of her vibrators started buzzing around in her sex drawer.

“No,” she breathed. “No, El, you are fabulous.” Her voice rose in pitch. “You are my best friend, and I don’t hang around with anyone but the best.” She tried not to look at him. “Now I am going to undo your pants and feed you the rest of this food, and you’re going to enjoy it, and everything is going to be fine!” 

Fuck. She was definitely crying now. She wiped at her eyes and turned her attention to Eliot’s pants. Unbutton the button and pull down the fly, give Eliot’s stuffed stomach the chance to swell forward, to take up the space. She heard him gasp in relief, and managed- forced- a smile. 

“Bambi,” Eliot said. He sounded so broken. She had fucked up. She was supposed to be domming him and she had fucking broken down. That wasn’t right, that wasn’t what she was supposed to do.  

“Shhh,” She shoved her despair, her frustration, her fear back deep inside herself. She’d deal with them later. Probably. Right now she had to be strong for Eliot. “Shhh, I’m sorry El. Yeah I got frustrated, but that’s not your fault.” It was the fault of the whole goddamn world, for treating her best friend like shit. “You’ve been doing so good for me. So good. I’m so proud of you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Eliot murmured. “I should never have doubted you.” 

“No you shouldn’t have,” Margo agreed. She sniffed loudly. “We look out for us.” She curled up into Eliot’s side and hugged him. Eliot couldn’t exactly hug back, since he was still tied up, but it was good just to feel him, warm and solid. Really solid right now. 

“How’s your stomach?” she asked. 

“Well,” Eliot said, “aside from throbbing with pain whenever I so much as blink... it seems to be fine.” 

“Okay,” Margo said. “Okay. Do you wanna tap out?” A part of her hoped he would, a part of her desperately needed him to not. 

Eliot took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “No. Keep going.” 

“You sure?” 

“I have not spent half my life turning myself into a hedonist to turn down half a bowl of chocolate,” he proclaimed, and Margo laughed despite herself. 

She beckoned the tray back towards them; she had apparently shoved it across the room in her desperation. “All right, then,” she said. “Open up.” 

Eliot did. The first few bites were tentative, delicate. He didn't want to upset Margo again, and she didn't want to upset him. He whined as he added more food to his aching belly, and she made sure she was completely done crying. 

Eventually they regained their confidence and most of their speed. Eliot chomped through the rest of the wafers, and though he was definitely struggling to get them down, he was also starting to appreciate the challenge. One more glass of champagne helped, and after a few painful hiccups he was requesting more food. Margo rubbed his stomach with her free hand as he ate; the moans she received in response were ones of relief.

It was as she’d predicted. He’d passed through pain and into the pleasure on the other side. 

The strawberries disappeared, one by one. Eliot’s breathing grew shallower as the contents of his stomach took up more and more room. One strawberry dripped chocolate onto the magic bib, and Margo wiped it off the air with her finger and let Eliot lick it. 

The dress shirt became too tight after a while, and Margo unbuttoned that too, laying Eliot’s heated skin bare to the comparatively cool air of the room. He groaned at the exposure, and she could tell he wanted be unseen but he let her rub his stomach anyway. Margo appreciated it. As she trailed her hands through the soft hairs on his belly, she could feel the weight of her impact, could touch the proof of how good he’d been for her. And when Eliot was full like this, anchored to the bed by his distended stomach, Margo could truly believe that, in this moment, he wasn’t going to disappear on her. 

They finished with the marshmallows. Eliot’s jaw had to be exhausted by now, but he kept chewing. His stomach under her hand was round and taut. She could feel its contents shift whenever he moved, feel it gurgle as it tried to make some headway through the painfully large amount of food Eliot had eaten. He groaned as she pressed circles into his heated skin, murmured for her to do more.

And then the last marshmallow was gone. She told Eliot to open his eyes, and the two stared at the empty packages, the chocolate pot that had been scraped clean. 

"Wow," Eliot finally managed. His voice was thick. 

“You did so good,” Margo murmured. “So good for me." 

"I can't believe it really worked," Eliot said, treading dangerously close to thinking about what they were trying to avoid thinking about. 

"Of course it did." 

Eliot blinked slowly up at her. He seemed dazed now, more than in pain. “Bambi. Has anyone ever told you you’re amazing?” he mumbled.

“Yeah,” Margo said. “Me.” But a tiny, tiny bit of the fear she’d got bottled up dissipated into the air. “How are you feeling?” 

“Full,” Eliot said. 

Margo rolled her eyes.

“Impossibly full. Like I’m about to split open and dump all that food all over your bed.” He smiled weakly. 

“Rude,” Margo said. She dismissed the tray onto the floor, with the shattered remains of the first one. She could deal with that stuff later. “Want your arms back?” 

Eliot nodded, so Margo disabled the binding spell and the ropes slithered away under the bed. Eliot winced as he pulled his arms and legs into his body, winced again as the movement jostled his stomach. He muttered expletives to himself as he tried to get comfortable. Margo delicately adjusted herself at the same time, curling up so she was pressed against his side, holding onto him. One hand rested on his stomach. 

A wave of Eliot’s hand and the lights went out. 

“Hey,” Margo whispered. “How are you doing?”

Eliot’s eyes were half closed. “Mmm. Good.” 

Tears caught in the corners of Margo’s eyes, and she pretended not to notice. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re my best friend,” Margo said. “Of course I’m gonna take care of you, bitch.” 

Eliot turned his head, wincing as somehow even that hurt his gut, and kissed Margo on the forehead. “And I’m gonna take care of you. Once I can, you know, actually move.”

“Beauty sleep first,” Margo said. 

“Beauty sleep is _essential,_ ” Eliot agreed. “Good night Bambi.” 

Margo listened to his shallow breaths and the gurgling of his belly for a long while. Once she was sure he was well and truly asleep, she cracked open one of those bottled-up emotions, some combination of fear and relief, and cried herself to sleep with an arm still wrapped around his swollen and tender stomach. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love to hear what you thought. 
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr as @dwarven-beard-spores.


End file.
